Hitch
by xmichiru-chanx
Summary: She was willing to give everything, give up everything, take everything. All for him, Atobe Keigo. But that was all in the past. Now, in her third year, they're assigned to work together. Will sparks fly, or will they get on without a hitch?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Hello! This chapter is a bit short, but...well, please review

**Disclaimer**: I do not own POT.

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**Second-Year...**

Aikawa Shia sighed as she leaned her head further into the palm of her hand. Her shoulders slumped forward, ash blonde hair spilling over the desk. Fighting back a yawn, she stared at the wooden desk beneath her arms.

"Aikawa." Atobe snapped.

Shia's head sprang up, her posture straightening. Her eyes lost its clouded look, and her face gained a sharp outlook.

"Hai?"

"If you wish, you may go home. Otherwise, finish up your work," the captain strictly reprimanded.

The girl's eyes widened. She hastily shook her head, shaking her hands rapidly.

"Iie! I'm fine! I'll stay here with you, President!"

Atobe raised an eyebrow.

He went back to his papers, letting out a 'hmph' once a while.

'Baka! I have to stay here until he finishes. Have to!'

Shia stared at his face for a moment, before realizing what she was doing, and broke out into a vivid blush.

Hurriedly looking down at her own papers with renewed fervor, Shia unconsciously let out another sigh as recollections of the past year came flooding back.

_"Shia-chaan! Mou," a droopy eyed girl complained tugging on Shia's arm. "You told me that you'd help me with my new routine!"_

_Shia's grey eyes widened, and the girl tore her eyes away from the figure that stood in the middle of the courts, smirking at the squealing fans._

_"Ah, gomen ne!"_

_"Che. I didn't know that when girls got crushes they forgot about their best friends," the other scoffed in mock annoyance._

_"Chiako-chan! I don't have a crush on him!"_

_"Which is why you've been staring at him for the past half hour. And I'm warning you-he's one rotten apple. Its best if you stay away from that pompous jerk."_

_"Eh? But-"_

_"No buts! Shia, we're talking about Atobe Keigo, for Pete's sake! Besides, he's got hoardes of fangirls at his heels! What in the world would make him choose you over them?"_

_Shia's eyes slowly dropped to the floor, and Chiako nearly gasped in recognition of what she had said._

_She hugged Shia tightly, sombering up._

_"Oh, Shia-chan! You know what I mean!"_

_"But Chiako-chan, I know that you're right, and-"_

_Chiako sighed._

_"Fine. Shia-chan. You're pretty. You're on the honor roll. You're a fucking ballerina for fuck's sake. You know what? If he doesn't come over to you, he's not going anywhere! Be damned!"_

_Shia had brightened up considerably after that, even though she knew that Chiako was over-complimenting her. In an effort to become closer to him, she'd pored over thousands of tennis books, watched every single one of his taped watches, and became vice president in the student council. She followed his heels everywhere, carrying his stuff, reminding him of his schedules as student body president, ran all sorts of errands. All for him, Atobe Keigo._

_Yet, she wasn't being noticed._

_He noticed the nerds more than her for Heaven's sake!_

_Actually, despite her apparent beauty, no guy ever paid attention to her. Ever!_

_What was a girl to do?!_

_And Chiako wouldn't let her be with those other girls at the front line, all ready for battle just so that Atobe-sama could eat her hand-made __bento._

_She said that it was unbecoming, and those little fakers could put their families' companies to shame, but they wouldn't!Nope._

Shia let out another sigh.

Atobe's brows furrowed together in annoyance, and he set his papers down from his hands back down on the table. He looked straight at Shia, letting out a huff.

"Aikawa!"

"Hai!"

Shia straightened up again, and Atobe inwardly rolled his eyes.

"If you don't like being here, than go home already!"

Shia's eyes dilated, and she fumbled around with her fingers.

"Um...well, its not that-"

"Aikawa, this is a direct order from the president. Go. Home. Ore-sama does not like hearing petty sighs all the time."

Shia frowned.

"Fine!" she shrieked in frustration, grabbing her bag and thundering out as quickly as humanly possible.

Rolling his eyes, Atobe shook his head.

'What. The hell.'

-

Mitome Chiako was a rude, ballistic, spunky girl. She knew how to cuss with the best of them, despite Shia's pleads. She knew how to beat boys to dust when they made Shia cry, how to rock it out on her guitar, and how to do her hair in that punk style that was actually more difficult than it looked.

She was proud.

She was clever.

She had an answer for everything.

But she didn't know what to do when her frail best friend, Shia, came bursting into her room (how she got past the maids and guards in her current state was a mystery) bawling her heart out.

"What's wrong?!"

A sniffle was the response.

"Its that tennis brat, huh!"

"Chiako-cha...waahhh! He...I...help...go...home..." Shia cried some more.

The lavender-haired girl narrowed her eyes, growing angrier by the moment.

"Yosh!" she declared, standing up.

Wiping away the last of her tears, Shia looked up, eye full of confusion.

"What?"

"This is the last time that idiot's making you cry! I'm going to teach him a lesson he'll never forget! He's still in the building, right?

Chiako pushed up her sleeve, making a fist with her hand. She took off her black glass bracelet, dropping it on the red carpet below.

Shia's eyes widened.

She grabbed Chiako's arm, eyes downcast.

"No...don't."

She looked up and forced a smile on her face.

"It...its okay. Its not as if he even knew who I was. Its not a problem."

With a huff, Chiako sat back down.

"Fine. But Shia. Either I beat him down or you give up on him. I can't stand this anymo-"

"I know. I've decided to give up on him. Its okay-really!"

---

**Third-Year...**

"Shiaaa!"

Chiako burst into the dance room, messy hair flying. In her hands she held a roll of paper.

"Nani?"

Shia looked up from tying up the laces on her shoes.

"Congrats! You were picked to be the leader of the performance group for the school festival!"

Shia's eyes widened.

"Me?!"

Chiako furiously nodded.

"How come I wasn't informed?!"

"The truth is, the drama group was in denial after their club manager left, and so it was a last minute decision. But that's okay, right?"

Shia raised an eyebrow.

"Well, in any case, hurry up! The meeting for the leaders is due in ten minutes!"

"Other...leaders?"

"Baka!"

Chiako slapped Shia's head with the roll of paper in her hand, and Shia flinched..

"I'm the leader of the music department, and there's one for food, decorations, games-stuff like that. Now hurry!"

"A-Aa!"

Shia scrambled around to change out of her practice uniform, sprinting into the locker rooms.

As she finished patting down her blue sweater when she came out, Chiako grabbed her hand, and fled the room before Shia could protest.

-

"Sorry we're late!" Chiako shouted as she sat Shia down on an empty seat after seating herself down. All the others were already waiting, taking a sip of water or staring at their nails.

Shia blushed when she found herself being stared at by the other people in the room.

"Gomen nasai!"

A 'hmph' was heard.

Shia looked up and found herself staring at annoyed greyish eyes.

"Why don't we get started then? Ore-sama is tired of waiting."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, I know Atobe might act a bit (okay, a lot! sheesh-don't slap me! wahhh!) OOC, so pleaaase forgive me! Oh, and remember to review! Because Shia and I live off of them, hanging onto each word-ow! Okay okay, you got me. Each letter. Happy? -.- Oh-and I'm thinking of starting to title the chapters. Whaddya think?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own POT. GAWD.**

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Exactly how the leader of the performing arts and the leader of the athletic department became partners was beyond Shia.

What did the two things have in common with each other, anyway?!

So at this current moment, Shia sat, disgruntled and arms crossed, in the classroom after school with Atobe.

"What?" she groused when Atobe stared at her with his eyebrows raised.

"Iie. Ore-sama just thinks he saw you somewhere before."

Shia gaped, cheeks growing redder with anger with each moment. Is this guy for real?! She spent an entire year-an year-does he know what that does to your dancing career?!-chasing after him like a lap dog, and this is how she is repaid?! IGNORED?!

"You...really...don't remember me?!"

Atobe frowned.

Was he supposed to?

"No."

In a flurry of movement, a resounding slap filled the room, as hand met 'royal' cheek.

A slightly red imprint was left on Atobe's face.

Eyes wide, he stared, appalled.

"You IDIOT! I hate you to death!"

Grabbing her bag, Shia stalked out of the room, slamming the door harshly behind her.

Glaring, Atobe muttered, "Freak! How dare she hit Ore-sama?! And Ore-sama is not a freak. Hmph."

-

_"Hah? Aikawa Shia? That late girl?"_

"Aa."

Atobe stared at his nails, adjusting the position of the phone wedged in between his right ear and shoulder.

_"Hm...I remember her. She was vice president for the student council last year, no?"_

Atobe raised his eyes in recognition.

"Ahhh, that girl. Hm..."

_"She followed you around like a dog-I remember that too. She was your slave, practically. Recall that?"_

Atobe narrowed his eyes.

"Hehh..."

_"She slapped you? Must be pretty hard on you, Atobe. Its the first time you've been hit, huh?"_

"Urusai! Ore-sama is able to take a slap from a petty girl. However, she will not be forgiven!"

Atobe clenched his hand into a fist.

_"Maa maa...just give her a break. Its probably hard on her, too."_

Atobe arched an eyebrow. How could it be harder on her, when, he was the one who was slapped?

"Hah?"

_"Well, if you served an year slaving away when you're from a highborn family, and that 'master' doesn't even acknowledge you, wouldn't you be hard-pressed as well?"_

"Ore-sama would never serve someone-"

_"Atobe, that's not the point here," _Oshitari sighed from the other line.

"Ore-sama is always the point."

Oshitari let out another sigh. There was no use in even trying to argue with Mr. Royal Highness.

_"In any case, find a way to work with her-you're assigned to work with her, you know."_

"Of course Ore-sama knows! That's why Ore-sama was gracious enough not to follow her and slap her back!"

_"Then good. Besides, you've got to understand she's a girl. You don't go around hitting girls."_

"Ore-sama knows everyth-"

Before Atobe could continue, Oshitari had clicked the 'off' button.

The tensai smirked in amusement.

'Hmph. Let's see how Mr. Great gets out of this one...'

-

Fuming, Atobe prepared to slam open the door and give a good tongue lashing.

Instead of appearing at the designated area, Shia had left a note saying to come to the dance room 'because she had to practice her new routine.'

And for an odd reason, all of the people he ordered absolutely refused to set foot in the dance area. Paling faces, fearful looks, and scurrying was what he recieved when he ordered someone to fetch Shia. He even recieved some looks that screamed 'are you insane?!' Of course, he dealt with them accordingly.

As student body president, he decided to figure out the 'horror' that lay in the third room of the department, and why no one dared to speak of it. However, Oshitari had tipped him off saying something about the 'danger of staying in the same room as a ballerina doing en pointe.'

As if he knew what 'en pointe' was anyways!

Pushing the blue door open, Atobe opened his mouth to begin explaining the rules of proper etiquette, but found himself rendered speechless when he saw Shia, spinning on an axis nonstop.

Leaping up, she seemed to be twisting in the air, landing on both feet, tip-toed.

Noticing the emptiness of the room, Atobe finally understood why he'd seen some people come out with bruises on their faces...they'd been kicked in the face during her landing!

The danger of his beautiful face being striked lit a match of fear in Atobe, and he took a tentative step back.

Finally noticing Atobe at the doorway, Shia stopped and took a glance at the Hyotei captain who stood with pride and...caution? Hmph. No matter-not that she cared. Of course she didn't care about the jerk! Absolutely not. Really. Maybe. Hopefully.

"You're late."

Snapping back to his senses, Atobe flared with rage.

"Ore-sama is late?! What about you?! How dare you order Ore-sama to do something!"

"Hmph. You always have people comply to YOUR selfish demands. Why not listen to other's sometimes too, hm?"

Atobe gaped some more, his whole body being filled with repulsion and surprise.

When he finally did regain his voice he could only splutter.

"How...how...how dare yo-you! Ore-sama's demands are NOT selfish! The...they...wha...how...dare...you...you...!"

For the first time in his life, Atobe Keigo was rendered speechless.

Even when his fifteenth butler had stormed out of his room screaming after he'd ripped Atobe's favorite book, Atobe had remained calm. Heck, he'd even called after him, "You forgot to take your last paycheck."

When a girl had broke down in front of him in front of an entire crowd after he'd rejected her confession, he'd eyed her cooly and told her, "Ore-sama apologizes for hurting your feelings but not for rejecting you," and had walked away elegantly without a trace of regret.

And now, he was rendered speechless by a satin shoe-wearing, mussy bun-haired, mini skirt wearing ballerina. What was the world coming to?!

"Cat got your tongue?" Shia taunted.

'What the hell did you just say?!'

Shia's mind conjured up a mini version of herself, clad in a white toga, complete with brandished gold wings and halo.

Another thought rammed that one out of her head soon enough.

'Its fine! Think of all the things he did to you before!'

Another miniature Shia appeared, dressed up in a revealing red dress, with black horns and pitchfork.

'You be quiet! Shia-don't listen to that simpleton! Shia, deep down, you know that you love him-'

'YOU be quiet!' the devil was at the white Shia's side in an instant, pushing her away.

'Shia! You know you despise him! Think of everything he made you do and he doesn't recognize you!'

White Shia had risen, gathering her hand stogether in prayer form.

'Oh, I call to the holy gods. Begone evil spirit. Begone!'

Black Shia stared dumbly back, jaw slowly dropping to the floor.

'Oh, holy father, help us rest in peace. Oh, holy father! Begone evil spirit, begone! BEGONE!'

'That's the best you could come up with, you flying freak?'

'We angels don't fly! We float gracefully through the air, giving out-'

'Little sticks in the shape of plus signs,' Black Shia completed.

'Why you!'

'STOP IT! Both of you-me-you me!' Shia screamed in her mind.

The two mini figures stopped and stared at her with dull eyes, both in identical stances of arms crossed and weight in one foot.

'Wha-'

"Are you listening to Ore-sama?!" Atobe screeched.

He'd watch her close her eyes as if in pain at nothing at all, and grab at her own hair for no apparent reason before concluding that either one: she was in despair after hearing him speak, or two: she was having a seizure. Of course, everybody would be in high heaven when they heard his voice, so it was obvious she was sick or in a seizure. Indefinitely.

Snapping out of her 'inner war session,' Shia glared at Atobe-with much effort to retain that glare. How was it that it was so hard to glare at a selfish diva?!

"What?" she hissed.

"Ore-sama demands that we get to work. Ore-sama is a very busy person, and you should be honored that you're a part of his sacred schedule."

Shia stared.

"What?"

"Sacred schedule? My ass."

Atobe flared.

"Ore-sama is getting sic-"

"Shut it with the Ore-sama! God-its so damn annoying!"

Atobe's eyes widened, and he could only stare as Shia began to vent.

"You little prick! You may think you're all that great, but all I see is a stupid little monkey who lives off of his dad's money! You're so selfish! You never think of other people!I'm sick of those prissy little smirks you throw around, those snide little comments you give out, even that ridiculous little mole you call a beauty mark!"

Atobe's eyes slowly began to narrow; how dare she mock his treasured beauty mark?!

"What's so great about being able to hit a yellow ball with a stick?! HUH?!"

That was it!

Atobe, in a flash, slapped away the accusing finger that was being pointed at him, and had Shia pinned against the wall.

It was now Shia's turn to gape, eyes wide.

Fighting back a blush as hard as she could, Shia forced on a defiant look.

Atobe chuckled.

Shia frowned. Had the guy finally snapped under the pressure? On the verge of panic, Shia was about to touch Atobe's forhead when he spoke again.

"Ironic, isn't it?"

He had snapped.

"I'm being told off by a ballerina who knows nothing of tennis."

Oh. _Oh. _So that was it. Shia nearly laughed at her own foolishness. Atobe Keigo was already born in a not-so-normal state, so of course he couldn't have snapped. Of course.

And after Shia realized that basic fact, she finally processed what the tennis diva had said to her.

"I am not a ballerina who knows nothing!"

"Oh really?"

Shia froze. She knew this tone. This voice. This questioning, mocking pitch.

It was the tone Atobe Keigo used for those he considered 'didn't know their place.'

He used it to completely destroy one's hopes and retaliations in a span of four point one three minutes (Shia had actually counted).

Mustering up all the courage she had, she answered, "Aa. Want to make something of it?"

"Oh?"

Atobe was mildly surprised. To actually still be able to respond in her current state was admirable. The first one, actually.

Before he could continue, a startling ring snapped the two out of their own thoughts.

Taking a step back, Atobe released Shia to take his cell phone out of his back pocket, opening it with a swift flick of his finger.

"Be awed by Ore-sama's musical voice."

Shia rolled her eyes. She was far too familiar with the different ways he answered the phone.

She now strained her ears to hear the voice on the other line.

_"Yo, Monkey King."_

Shia frowned. 'Monkey King?' That person sure had guts...

Atobe narrowed his eyes.

"What do you want, brat?!"

'Brat?' Wow. The sheer fact that Atobe even bothered to give that person insultive name was amazing. Usually, he just returned it with something like 'You're just jealous because you would never match Ore-sama's prowess' or something of the sort.

_"Tennis."_

Ahhh, so that was it. A worthy tennis opponent.

"Hah? Ore-sama and you?"

_"No. The entire team."_

"You've gotta be kidding."

_"Nope."_

Atobe's eyes narrowed further.

"And why all of a sudden?"

_"I just wanted to make sure that we're still stronger than you."_

Woah. That kid definitely had guts. Atobe angrily flushed.

"How dare you mock Ore-sama's team?!"

There he goes again with the 'how dare you.' Ha.

_"I don't know. So. You coming?"_

Atobe regained his composure, straightening up.

"Fine. Where?"

_"Tokyo Tennis Garden. In an hour. Don't be late, Monkey King."_

"You're the one who's always late, you brat!"

_"Ja."_

Shutting the phone with a resounding 'snap!', Atobe began walking towards the door.

Shia cleared her throat and Atobe stared.

"What?" he asked irritably.

"The project?"

After a moment of silent contemplation, he turned back around.

"Come to the Tokyo Tennis Garden by five."

And before Shia could even open her mouth to protest, Atobe had briskly walked out of the studio.

-

"Why am I even here?"

It was a fairly warm night, so Shia had 'randomly' put on a pair of grey skinny jeans, a black halter top underneath a off-shoulder white shirt, her hair undone.

Her blue converse tapped on the concrete ground as Shia sat on the front row of benches, arms crossed.

The Seigaku regulars were already there, smiling and talking to themselves.

About her.

And one of them, a hyper redhead named Kikumaru Eiji, was poking her. She knew his name because she was the one who'd researched all of them for Atobe last year. So now, she was confident that she knew all of them.

What she didn't know was that a certain freshman was missing, for he had just come to the school this year.

"Hoiii...you're here to see our match?"

Shia forced on a kind smile.

"Hai."

"Kawaii nya! I'm Kikumaru Eiji (as if Shia didn't know after she'd so thoroughly researched him for Atobe last year)! Nice to meet you!" Eiji grinned and Shia slightly blushed, edging away.

A black haired teen nearby frowned worriedly.

"Eiji, stop that. You're scaring her. Gomen-I'm Oishi Syuichirou. Nice to meet you."

Shia shook his hand. She knew him too. The mother hen of Seigaku. The other half of the nationally ranked Golden Pair.

She grinned a small smile.

"Ne."

The two turned to look straight at her, as well as all the other regulars.

"You're the Golden Pair, right?"

Eiji and Oishi nodded.

"And you're Fuji Syuusuke, the tennis tensai?"

Fuji's smile grew wider.

"And you're Tezuka Kunimitsu, right? Nationally ranked?"

Tezuka acknowledged her with a curt nod.

Shia's grin got wider as she abruptly stood up, startling the boys.

She bowed down low, even further surprising them.

"I'm Aikawa Shia! Yoroshiku! And good luck!"

Here, Shia raised her head.

"Make sure you beat them, okay?"

"Hah?" A tall, black haired teen, Momo, uttered.

"Fshhh...aren't you from Hyotei?"

"Hai."

"Saa...aren't you cheering for the wrong team? Why would you want us to beat them?"

Shia smiled gently.

She spoke in a sweet, almost loving voice.

Which only made it purely creepy.

"Because...they're nothing but a group of loud, obnoxious, ungrateful brats, and their captain is a half-assed jerk. That's why."

Shia finished with a grin.

She recived skeptical looks.

As Momo opened his mouth to speak, they were interrupted by a voice Shia knew oh-so-well.

"Aikawa! Ore-sama demands that you, a Hyotei student, stops socializing with those lowlives!"

Narrowing her eyes, Shia flew around before any of the Seigaku regulars could react to the insult.

"If they're lowlives, you're lower than the low, 'Monkey King!'"

Gakuto and Shishido tried a failed attempt to hide their laughter, while Oshitari let out a small smirk and Choutarou smiled worriedly. Hiyoshi snorted.

Atobe leered.

"Ara? Who's using my nickname?"

All heads turned towards the entrance of the courts.

And there stood Echizen Ryoma, smirking in all his glory.

"Ah! You!"

This time, eyes flew over to Shia, who gaped with an accusing finger pointed at the boy genius.

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**A/N: Alright, I know. If this was the usual Atobe, he probably wouldn't have let Shia off the hook so many times so easily, but...oh well...please forgive me...**


	3. Pride is Not To Be Lost

**A/N:**** Hello, michiru-chan here again! I'm kinda disappointed with this chappie...but please don't say it to my face (cries on Atobe's shoulder while smirking triumphantly that she gets to cry on ATOBE. Atobe gets creeped out.)... No matter how much it sucks, will some of you still review? Please? (blows nose into Atobe's shirt leaving him disgusted). Gehh...oh yeah, I heard a quote that's really coool.**

**"Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. And today? Today is a gift. That's why we call it the present."**

**-Babatunde Olatunji**

**Isn't it cooool? Anyways, I'm kinda sick with a cold but yeah...please review!!! Even if it sux...**

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own POT.**

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"Ah! You!"

This time, eyes flew over to Shia, who gaped with an accusing finger pointed at the boy genius.

"Aikawa. You know the brat?"

Ryoma's smirk was intact-he liked leaving the 'high and mighty' Monkey King baffled. It was so fun; really. He wondered if the Hyotei captain knew that Ryoma always remembered to call him Monkey King just for the sake of seeing his dignified face pissed. Ryoma sometimes didn't understand why others didn't try it, too. They always shook their heads at him asking if he knew how much power Atobe had. Pfft.

Shia nodded.

"He's the guy who nearly got killed for beating someone in tennis."

_"Hey, brat! Don't get too cocky!"_

_A boy with a medium build glared angrily at Ryoma, who merely smirked back at him. The larger boy's grip around his racket tightened, and his fingertips turned white as the blood rushed upwards into the upper parts of the fingers._

_Sweat dripped onto Hyotei's courts-how Ryoma had ended up accepting a challenge from one of Hyotei's tennis club members didn't matter anymore. The fool had sauntered over when he was walking by, and that was that._

_"Why not? I beat you."_

_Ryoma silently laughed. It was so much fun getting others angry and caught off guard! He couldn't help it-he was, after all, Echizen Nanjiroh' s son. Blood doesn't lie, you know._

_"Why you!"_

_Ryoma's eyes remained calm as he calculated the distance between him and the boy's now swinging fist; it wouldn't reach him. Che. How could a guy who can't even calculate if his punch would come in contact with the target or not believe that he could challenge the tennis prodigy, Echizen Ryoma? Amusing, isn't it?_

_"Stop it!"_

_A figure had stepped in between the boy's incoming fist and Ryoma's face, and the punch stopped inches away from the girl's face. Ryoma rolled his eyes. Was this another person aiming at playing 'hero' and getting hurt for unnecessary reasons? Those were the most annoying people...he had to feel guilty if they got hurt, and it wouldn't even have been his fault! Sheesh...this world was too full of hero wannabes._

_"Who're you?"_

_The girl hesitated, and Ryoma raised an eyebrow._

_"I'm...his sister! Ja!"_

_Ryoma's jaw hit the ground with a sound 'pop' when he heard the blatant lie. What was she thinking?!_

_Grabbing Ryoma roughly by the wrist, the girl fled the courts with Ryoma in tow._

_-_

_Several huffs were breathed to steady the girl's heart. Sweat drenched the back of the girl's whit uniform blouse, the light material sticking to her skin. The sun blared above; a bird flew by, letting a feather loose. The girl was careful not to touch the bench behind her that was heated by the sun's rays._

_Ryoma looked on impassively._

_"Hey! You could have seriously gotten hurt, you know that?!" the girl jabbed a finger at Ryoma's chest. Personally, Ryoma thought of this as offending. Fingers hurt-sheesh._

_"So? I could have called the police."_

_"Idiot!"_

_The girl slapped Ryoma on the head once, and Ryoma glared. Nobody's hit him since Ryoga did-beside his pervert of a father, that is. And besides, who wants to be compared to a skirt-chasing monk?_

_"What was that for?!"_

_"For being such a fool. Now go on home-they might come after you."_

_Ryoma shrugged. It wasn't like he was afraid of them. Why did he need to escape?_

_"Not a big deal."_

_He recieved another thwack on the head._

_"Listen up, you little prat-go. Home. I don't want to see you in a bloody pulp the next morning. Now move it!"_

_The girl pushed Ryoma forward with her hands. _

_"What about you?"_

_"I'll be fine! Now move it!"_

_With a final shove, the girl turned around and began walking away._

_"What's your name?"_

_Ryoma didn't really care but asked out of courtesy._

_Glancing back, the girl grinned._

_"Aikawa Shia. Ja ne, tennis boy-kun!"_

_Ryoma sniffed. 'Tennis boy-kun?' Lame. It should have been tennis-prodigy-kun. Way more fitting._

Momo and Eiji began to chortle, and Oishi coughed back a laugh.

"Che."

Ryoma filled his cheeks with air, and looked the other way. He really didn't like it when people laughed at him-he was the Prince of Tennis for Pete's sake!

Atobe rolled his eyes-how like the brat.

"In any case, Ore-sama tires of this useless chat. Let's get to the tennis."

Murmurs of agreement rose, and bidding the Seigaku team good luck, Shia over to the side where the Hyotei regulars stood. From Seigaku's side, Oishi and Eiji stepped up to the courts, one grinning widely, the other, smiling at the former's antics.

"Shishido. Ootori."

The two players nodded, understanding their captain.

The strode into the courts.

Seated in the umpire's seat, Kawamura called out, "Oishi Eiji pair vs. Shishido Ootori pair. Oishi Eiji pair to serve!"

Bouncing the ball, Oishi served normally into the other court, and Shishido slammed it back, thus, starting a rally.

Meanwhile, Shia leaned back.

"I thought tennis was fun."

Gakuto looked at her.

"It is."

Shia looked up confusedly.

"They're just hitting balls with sticks. What's so special?"

"Have you ever played tennis?" Oshitari asked.

Shia looked away absentmindedly, eyes faking innocence. Her grip on the sides of her pants grew tighter, and her face looked more tight.

"Um...a little bit." Shia signified it by pinching her fingers together. "A long, long time ago."

As the conversation went on, Jiroh slowly awoke, blinking rapidly. He let out a yawn and stretched his arms as he slowly rose to his feet. He took the jersey he was using as a pillow and clumsily put it on, turning to the direction where Shia and Gakuto sat.

Upon seeing Shia, he gaped.

"Waaahhh! Ne ne, you're Aikawa Shia, right?!"

Shia blinked, turning around to face Jiroh. She cocked her head to one side, letting her hands fall to her sides.

"Y-yes...you know me?"

Gakuto snorted.

"EVERYBODY knows you."

Shia seemed genuinly surprised.

"They...they do?"

"No duh. You're one of the three 'forbidden maidens.'"

Shia's eyes grew wide.

"H-hah?"

"'The world hath no fury like an angry female friend.'"

The cryptic recitation from Oshitari only got Shia more confused.

"You'd be pretty popular at our school if it weren't for the unsaid law you know," Jiroh said in an almost matter-of-factly manner. "You're a ballerina after all. Haven't you noticed that all the ballerinas at our school are the most popular?"

"I still don't get it."

Oshitari looked as if was holding back a laugh-which offended Shia to a certain point. It was already degrading enough that he was a genius and she wasn't, and then to have such a 'tensai' laugh at her...it made her feel like an idiot. Which she was not. Idiots are not permitted into the high-class Hyotei Gakuen.

Jiroh grinned widely and Gakuto rolled his eyes.

"Okay. Lets put it this way. Who's your best friend?" Gakuto asked, speaking slowly. Ugh-he really hated this.

"Chiako-chan."

"And your 'Chiako-chan' is known as one of the three 'protectors.' As in, a female best friend who will beat the pulp out of any male if they even so far as hand her friend the wrong color of roses."

Shia's eyes grew as wide as platters.

"Chiako-chan? Oh no!"

Gakuto nodded knowingly. How sad the girl must feel-not to mention betrayed.

"And that is why no guy ever asks you out-"

"She might get hurt!"

Shia received flat looks and gapes-the reason why, she didn't understand.

At this moment, a miracle happened; the same thought flew over all three of the regulars' heads.

'Now I understand why she's a forbidden maiden.'

"Oishi-Eiji pair! Six games to five!"

Pulling her attention away from the three third years, Shia turned to look at the two sweating players as they came back. Shishido and Choutarou both had a large grin plastered on their faces.

Shia didn't get it; they had lost, so why did they look so happy?

She knew for a fact that Shishido was not what you'd call a smiling ball of sunshine.

Choutarou, she didn't really know so she couldn't say.

When they came and sat next to her on the bench, Shia turned to face them.

"Hey."

Shishido stopped in the process of taking a sip from his water bottle, raising an eyebrow.

Choutarou politely placed his towel down neatly on his lap and smiled.

"What?"

"Hai, Aikawa-senpai?"

Shia bit her bottom lip, unsure of whether it would be safe to ask the question.

"Why...why are you...so happy?"

Shishido wrinkled his nose.

"Hah?"

The hell? What was with this girl?

Atobe had said that he'd invited her to watch the match because they had to work on a project afterwards, but...

Well then again, today was a Saturday so the two could stay up late and work on the project-wait! That wasn't the point here!

Choutarou merely smiled in response.

"Well, we got a good game, senpai."

Shia wrinkled her brows together.

These guys were too weird. She'd known them since elementary school-since most Hyotei students went to Shibuya Elementary seeing as they were sister schools (A/N: not really but go along with me on this please!)-and they'd always either talked about tennis, thought about tennis, or studied about tennis.

Shia remembered that on Valentine's Day they wouldn't accept chocolate unless it was in the shape of tennis balls.

Or that one time where one of them rejected the cutest girl in school because she didn't know what a top spin was.

Or that other time they argued with the math teacher when they were learning rates using a tennis ball as an example and the teacher had said that 'if it dropped at this rate, it would be impossible for it would be underneath the ground,' and they had recently seen an incredible smash that had left the ball a few centimeters below regular ground level.

Or that time where-

"Ah! Its raining!"

Jiroh's voice snapped Shia out of her reverie, and she looked up, and felt cold drops pelting against her face.

She sighed. Of course; when she'd finally gotten the chance to talk to the regulars, something would rain in on her. Literally.

"Aikawa-get over here now. Ore-sama tires of waiting!"

Atobe frowned from inside his limousine, where the rest of the regulars were already sitting. After all, Atobe was a gentleman and gentlemen didn't allow ladies to run home in the rain even if they had a car waiting for them.

Looking down from her gaze at the grey sky, she nodded and hurried into the car without thinking of possible consequences. Like losing her pride.

-

"Purple?"

Shia gawked at the furniture.

Purple curtains, purple lamp shades, purple bed sheets-even a purple tinted window!

When Atobe had said that they'd be going into his room, she'd expected something a bit more...masculine. Like cobalt blue, or sea blue, or black and white, or maybe something mature, like beige?

But not purple. Purple! Of all things-ick!

"Purple is the color of royalty-which matches Ore-sama perfectly."

Uh-huh. Right.

"What part of royalty? The ancient part or the greedy part?"

'Wow Shia. Way to go girl! That's it! Show him that you're strong!'

Shia nodded inwardly. She was _so_ over Atobe Keigo. And she knew how to show him that, too.

Atobe glared at her while the other regulars burst into laughter.

"You're lucky you're Ore-sama's partner, otherwise, Ore-sama would've had you butchered and fried already!" Atobe hissed.

"Oh, you know what a 'vulgar' word like 'butchered' means? Amazing!"

Shia clapped in mockery.

Gakuto guffawed, and Shishido clapped Shia's back.

"Diss!" Jiroh chortled, having awakened by earlier's laughter.

Upon observing that Atobe was about to explode and would tear Shia apart-literally-like a jealous ex-girlfriend of some sort, Oshitari cleverly intervened.

"Now now. Atobe, didn't you say that your indoor courts were remodeled?"

Instantly reverting back to his usual smug expression, Atobe turned to face Oshitari.

"Of course. It is now complete with a large flat screen TV to observe Ore-sama's prowess during the match."

Shia made a gagging motion behind Atobe's back, and everyone had to hold in their laughter. It wouldn't do for Atobe to find out...it could-no, would-get ugly. Very ugly indeed.

"Well-" a small chuckle, "why don't we get going?" Oshitari steered everyone out, winking at Shia.

"Senpai, aren't you coming?" Choutarou asked politely as he stopped at the doorframe.

"No thanks. I'll just stay here until the rain stops. But thanks anyways."

-

By the time the regulars had finished tennis and had gotten dressed, night had already fallen, the digital clocks blinking a flashing '10:00' on their faces. Grey clouds floated outside the windows, swimming amongst twinkling bouts of light.

But all of that was ignored as a group of boys made their way towards a particular room, where a girl lay sleeping.

Jiroh's hand was still on the crystal doorknob when he saw Shia nodding off, leaned against Atobe's bed. The rest soon filed in, and then began the 'let's-stare-at-the-sleeping-girl-who's-supposed-to-be-home' game.

"She's sleeping," Jiroh stated.

"No duh, Sherlock," Gakuto shot back.

"Sheesh, what's your problem today?" Shishido nudged him in the stomache.

"Don't touch me-I might get your 'idiocy germs.'"

"What'd you say?!"

"I said what I said. Don't tell me you've gone deaf, too-"

"Enough, you two." Oshitari intervened by stepping between the two third years, sighing. Do you not understand the concept of teamwork? We're on the same tennis team, for Pete's sake," he chided.

The two turned up their noses with a sniff.

"Like I care."

"Whatever."

Inwardly rolling his eyes, Oshitari let his attention drift to the girl who lay sleeping, head propped against the bed.

"Didn't she say that she'd leave when the rain stopped?" Hiyoshi grumbled.

"She must've fallen asleep while waiting," Choutarou added.

"Ore-sama shall wake her-"

"Absolutely not. You will let the lady sleep-Keigo, put her in the guest room next to yours."

-

_Blink._

_Blink._

_Blink blink._

_Blink blink blink._

'Where...am I?'

Sunlight filtered through the slightly ajar curtains, causing Shia to raise her arm to shield her eyes. The sunlight hit the satin sheets that kept her warm, illuminating the soft blue colour. Shia's ash blonde hair seemed to glow in the morning sun, and her skin had an ivory touch.

She noticed satin sleeves on her arm.

'That's weird...my pajamas don't have sleeves-ohgodohgodohgod. I'm in Atobe Keigo's house.'

Shia realized with a jolt when all of her memories of the previous day came back to her.

Air rushed out of Shia as she realized her current predicament. The blue silk sheets only proved her thesis-her own bed sheets were a light pink!

'What happened last night? Why aren't I home? Don't tell me...I...I actually fell asleep...? Ohhh...goddammit!!!'

On the verge of tears at her loss of pride, Shia was about to raise her hands to her face when a timid knock on the door was heard.

Whipping her head around in alarm, she called out, "Y-yes?"

The door opened a fraction, and a slightly disgruntled maid stepped in. She looked to be around fifteen, sixteen, and extremely pretty. Long, silky blonde hair was put in an elegant updo twist, and her bright red-polished nails nearly digged into her maid outfit, the skirt being shorter than most. Shia suspected that the girl had pulled it up.

"Atobe-sama requested you get dressed and come down for breakfast," the girl sniffed. She seemed displeased in Shia's presence.

"Th-thank you...?"

Shia was unnerved. She was an heiress to a wealthy company and this girl was a maid! And she was being stared down by a mere employee?! Shia didn't know whether to feel angered at the girl's nerve, or depressed at her own image that apparently wasn't impressing enough.

The maid began to walk back out, but just before her body was out, she stopped in the doorway.

"Oh, and by the way? I can't believe a _slut_ like you got to sleep in Atobe-sama's residence. Don't ever touch him again-he's off limits."

The oak door snapped shut with a 'clink!' and Shia gaped after it.

Slut?

Off limits?

What was this?!?!

Shakily sliding off the bed, Shia shivered slightly when her bare feet touched the cold marble floor. She moved her head around in frantic, quick movements like a timid mouse in a new house. Upon finding an ornate wardrobe off to the side, she shuffled over and took a hold of the wooden knob.

When she pulled it open, she found herself amazed when it was full of outfits and accessories-even matching shoes lined the floor of the closet.

Shia fingered each article before sliding it to the side.

Her eyes brightened when she found a perfect outfit; a light pink one piece dress with a matching white cardigan.

Finding an outfit was one thing, but...taking and wearing it? A totally different matter. She'd be consenting and saying 'fine, I lost!' to Atobe the minute she took it out of the rack.

Then again, the maid had said 'Atobe-sama,' meaning that it could be Atobe's father...in that case, she had to accept his hospitality and take the dress, not to mention that she had to look presentable.

It was a fifty fifty chance...which was it?!

Weighing the chances, Shia decided that it would be better to just take the outfit. She could always dry clean and return it afterwards anyways...right?

Shia gently dropped the pink satin slippers and outfit on the bed before walking into the bathroom located near the wardrobe.

She stared for a moment, allowing her eyes to trail over the elegant lavatory. The walls were made out of a smooth, beige and white colored marble, the sinks were pure black, sparkling underneath the perfect lights. The faucets were a stain-free silver, the faucet knobs made of crystal.

Shia hesitated a bit before turning on the water and splashing the icy water on her face.

-

The large doors opened a fraction and a head peeked out.

A few delicate strands of hair was wound in a delicate ribbon, and the rest shook free.

A hand grasped the edge of the door tightly.

A look to the right.

A look to the left.

Again to the right.

Safe.

Hurriedly slipping out into the second floor hallway, Shia made a head-run towards the spiraling staircase. She slid her hands down the white-washed banister, skipping down two steps each.

Before she inevitably crashed, head first...into a pair of strong, steady arms.

'Eh?'

Shia blinked a couple of times before raising her head.

She found herself staring into silvery-blue orbs. A smirk emphasized the amused look, and a defined mole dotted the face.

"Oh? What now? Trying to seduce Ore-sama?" A deep, velvety voice teased.

Shia felt her face heat up, and she pushed Atobe away.

"No! Besides, why would I want to seduce a guy who falls in love every time he sees a mirror?!"

Shia was blushing furiously now, her face glaring angrily at the floor below. Why was she always in the embarrasing position?! Was it because of her nature? Or was it sheer luck and coincidence? Or was it...because she lov-no! She didn't like him.

Not at all.

The girl's head snapped up when she heard laughter, and her eyes grew large as she saw Atobe laughing at her.

He had a hand covering his hand, and he was slightly bent over.

Blushing even more, Shia hissed, "What?!"

Atobe finally ceased, and smirked.

"What a funny little doll," he mused, leaning in towards Shia.

The minute he did, Shia's head began to grow lighter. She felt herself drifting upwards...up, up, up...towards the clouds...

Shaking her head, Shia fought the feeling.

"Get away from me," she growled, pushing Atobe away.

Atobe raised his eyebrow.

"Whatever. Ore-sama was sent to fetch you-you should be honored that Ore-sama took time to come get you."

Shia's eyes widened. Had Atobe Keigo-_the _Atobe Keigo really come to get her?

"Why?"

"You can't find your way to the dining room, can you?"

Shia froze for a moment. Actually, she could. She'd had a map of the Atobe household for when the council members would come over and she'd take a tiny peek into Atobe's room-not in perverted way, of course!

"N-no..."

"Then come on. Ore-sama is an extremely busy person."

-

-

-

**A/N:**** Hello again...I just love the author's note area. I think I enjoy writing author's notes more than the actual story sometimes, 'specially with this chapter. I don't know-I just ran out of gas and was cranking out the words...uh-oh spaghettio..haha...well please review. Atobe and I love them!  
**

**"oi, idiotic commoner. How dare you group yourself with Ore-sama?!"**

**And there's Atobe screaming at me...haaaa...bibi...**


	4. ENDING NOTE

A/N: Hello!! Sadly, I don't think I will be continuing this story any more…I will be handing it off to my wonderful friend/fellow writer, coffeelatte. I think some of you should know her, hmm? She'll be rewriting it and continuing it as she sees fit, and my hands are completely out of the business now. I'm sorry to everyone who had been reading this, and thank you for reading up till now! :D


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